Time for you to go again
by fixusi
Summary: He hated cold. It made you shiver, it made you need warmth. Warmth, like Sammy had needed that night. His voice had been shaky because the cold. Half an hour earlier Sam had covered himself with a blanket because of the cold motel-room. He had sat next to Dean, because there had been warmer than anywhere else. Hurt!Sam/Dean, character Death. Reviews are love:)


**I really, really, really want to write fanfic about Four Brothers, and I did write a beginning but I deleted it all. Again. I'm really, really, really frustrated so f*uck you delete button. :)**

**So here you go. Supernatural fanfic. **

**I was reading my old fanfics couple days ago, and they were actually okay. But I had soo much grammar mistakes I felt ashamed. So now I re-wrote my first fanfic I ever published in English, Crash. **

**I hope you like it :)**

It was a boring night in a boring motel-room. Sam and Dean sat on the couch side by side, watching some old horror movie. They both had beers in hand and Sam had taken blanket to warm him up.

It was snowing outside. The weather was so bad that they were stuck in that crappy motel (all the highways outside the town were crowded), and they had absolutely nothing to do.

"Okay, this movie sucks", Sam said. Dean laughed a bit.  
"You said it", Dean agreed and took a sip from his beer.

"We should really do something, Dean", Sam said turning his head towards Dean.  
"Okaay. You are _really _drunk. Time to go to bed, Sammy."

Sam laughed and Dean looked at him.  
"I'm not drunk yet, and I didn't mean it _that _way. I just meant we should do something else. This movie is really boring."

Dean nodded in understanding. Movie _was _boring.

"Man, it's almost half past one. _At night. _There is nothing to do."  
"We could just drive around. See this city, know some places. Like a good fast food-restaurant."

Dean sighed and smiled a little at his half-drunk little brother. He ran his hand through his hair.  
"Here's the deal. We'll go driving around if it's not snowing." He looked out of the window and saw that there wasn't snowing anymore.  
"I guess we'll go, then."

**oO::Oo**

Even though it wasn't snowing, there was snow. Too much, if you asked Dean. He had never really liked snow. It was cold, wet and... well, cold.

Dean put Metallica singing from the speakers and waited Sam to sit down and shut the door.  
"Okay, where to?"  
"Doesn't matter, really. Just drive...?"

Laughing Dean nodded and drove off.

They drove for a while. They talked about some random stuff and neither of them paid too much attention to the other cars. Neither of them saw it coming until it was too late.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled and looked in horror at his little brother. It was the last thing he did before the truck hit Impala and sent it flying to its roof.

Sam shouted in quick pain in his head before everything turned black.

**oO::Oo**

He woke up slowly. First he began to feel things. He couldn't move his left arm and his head hurt. He felt something warm on his face.

"S-" he tried, remembering what had happened. Truck. Crash. The horrible face on his brother just before-

"S'm", Dean whispered opening his eyes. He was laying next to his unconscious brother who was covered with blood and bruises.

"S-Sam", Dean managed to say, trying to move his moving arm to touch his brother. Gently he touched Sam's face, repeating his name like a mantra.

"Sammy, please. You hav'to wake up."

Sam stirred slightly but didn't open his eyes. Dean sighed and tried to move closer Sam to check his pulse, but failed. He was stuck, and Sam wouldn't wake up. Fantastic.

Dean started to look around him to see where he was and which body parts were stuck. He felt only his aching head and his not-moving arm.

He laid on Impalas roof on his back. His left arm was pinned under him, and his legs were stuck under twisted metalscrap.

First he pulled his hand free. It hurt like hell, but he didn't care. He had gone through worse, and it didn't seem to be broken. Just sore and bruised.

Then he tried to pull his legs out, but fell back to his back with a cry.

_Shit, _Dean thought. _I must have broken something. Maybe a rib, or at least I have cracked some... Not good._

But he kept trying. Because Sam, -his Sammy-, was laying next to him barely alive. The amount of blood scared Dean. Maybe it was the alcohol, it made blood thinner and flow faster. however, there was too much blood. And Sam was beginning to turn pale.

That meant he was still bleeding.

Gosh, how long had Dean been out? He didn't know, but he knew that he had to get Sam out of there. And fast. Every minute was minute wasted, because he was laying there like a wounded puppy and doing nothing.

He couldn't do that, just lay there and cry his pain. Doing nothing wasn't Dean's thing. He had to do something.

He pushed himself up, not caring about the hot pain wheeling through his whole body. He bit his lip and slowly got his legs free.

He inched towards Sam, patting his cheek slightly. Younger Winchester didn't move an inch, so Dean had check his pulse. It was there, too slow and unsteady, but it was there.

Dean sighed in relief and began to back down, trying to get out of the car. He had to get Sam out, but he couldn't do that inside the car. So he had to get out first.

Dean opened Impala's door and got out, raising to his feet. Walking was a bit hard with his sore feet, but he managed to get to the other door. He opened it and kneeled down to reach Sam.

"Sammy, 'm sorry but this is going to hurt a bit", Dean mumbled under his breath and gripped his little brothers jacket. He started to pull Sam out of Impala, and luckily he wasn't buried under some scrap.

Dean got him out within minutes. But Sam didn't wake up.

"Man, you gotta wake up. We have no car, no help.. even the man driving that truck is gone ! I can't carry you, I'm injured. Please, Sammy.."

Sam turned his head a little, as if he had listened to Dean.  
"That's my boy", Dean smiled and slowly Sam opened his eyes.  
"D'n...?" Sam whispered out of breath like opening his eyes had taken too much energy.

"Yeah, that's me. Are you hurt?"

_Stupid question. Of course he is!_

Sam nodded slowly.  
"It's- M'back."

His back hurt, his ribs hurt and his head hurt. It all hurt.

"My ches', too", Sam admit and looked to Dean. He was laying in the white, fresh snow next to Impala and Dean was kneeling over him.

"You okay?" Sam asked. He was hurt, and it made thinking hard, but he had to make sure Dean was okay.

"I'm okay as long as you are, Sammy", Dean said smiling a bit sadly. But the sentence didn't convince Sam.  
"Dean. Are you okay?"

Dean nodded.  
"My legs are a bit bruised, as well as my left arm. But otherwise I'm fine." Dean eyed Sam. "I can't say same about you. You are covered with blood. Gosh, let me see."

Sam didn't say a word when Dean lifted his shirt up to check his body. Dean didn't say anything, either, but his body-language told Sam that everything was not okay.

"Dean."  
"There is a huge gash on your chest. I have to put pressure on it, it's bleeding quite lot. This might hurt a little", Dean warned and started to press the wound with his hands. Sam hissed when the pain hit him again. It was overwhelming for a few moments, but somehow Sam managed to stay conscious.

"We're not goin' to make this with'ut help", Sam hissed. "At least m'not"  
"Shut up Sam, you are going to make this just fine. It's just a little gas-"  
"You just said it was huge, De'n", Sam said wathing Dean. Dean turned his head to look Sam in the eyes.

"It's not that bad.. but yeah, you're right. I think we'll need help."  
"I'll call Bobby", Sam told Dean and took his phone out of his jeans' pocket. Quickly he dialed Bobby's number. It rang three times before Bobby answered.

"Sam."  
"Hey, we- uh, we got hit by a truck and-"  
"Voah, what? Slow down."  
"Truck hit us", Sam said. "m'bleeding.. a lot, and Dean can't walk..! We are near Denver, in this little to'n called-"  
"I know in what town you are, and I do know someone who might be able to help you. He's a doctor. Do you see anything that might help him find you?"

Sam looked around him, seeing library not far ahead.  
"Yeah, there is a library nea'us", Sam told Bobby.  
"Hang in there, boys. I'll call help. Next time be careful, okay? Idjits."

Sam hang up. Dean looked at him, worry shining from his eyes. Sam began to feel a little dizzy. Maybe it was because of the blood loss, or the blinding pain all over his body, he didn't know. But he knew that help was on its way.

"D'n it's okay", Sam said, his voice beginning to shake.  
"It's not. But we are going to get help, just stay with me Sammy."  
"I'll try, but it's no'easy."

Dean noticed how Sam had trouble with speaking. It was not a good sign.

"Just stay with me, okay? I'm- I'm going to tell you something, and you listen. Keep your focus on my voice, alright?"

Sam nodded. There was black dots swimming in front of his eyes.

Dean began to tell Sam of the time when they were young. Tell about dad and all the things Sam couldn't remember. Dean was four years older, after all. He could remember something about mum. He remembered the evenings in their house she spent playing with Dean. Dean couldn't remember what they played, but he did remember mum laughing with him. And that was what he told Sam.

"m'jealous", Sam said interrupting Dean. Dean looked confused.  
"Why?"  
"You got to spent four years w'it mum. You remem'er her."

Dean sighed.  
"Well, it's not your fault you were born later."  
"I kno'."

Dean kept telling. He had told Sam about the first solo hunt he had made at age 25, when Sam was in college. It had been a simple salt and burn, but he had still managed to broke two ribs.

"Ouch", Sam hissed at Dean's story, almost passed out himself.

Silence fell on them. Dean still held his hands on Sam's chest, covering the wound, but it was still bleeding. And Dean knew that Sam was nearly passed out.

"Dean", Sam broke the silence. "M'... M'gonna pass out."  
"Sam, no. You got to stay awake, you hear me?"

Sam nodded and tried his best. But it didn't last long. In a minute he was unmoving and limp again.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, shaking his brother a little. He quickly checked his pulse which was slowing dangerously.  
"Sammy! Don't you _dare _to leave me here!"

Dean heard an ambulance coming. He just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Paramedics ran to them. Two of them lifted Sam on to the stretchers and in to the ambulance. Dean went soon after him.

Dean grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed it gently.  
"We are going to make this, Sammy. It's going to be okay."

**oO::Oo**

Dean had always hated snow. It was cold, wet and... well, cold.

He hated cold. It made you shiver, it made you need warmth.

Warmth, like Sammy had needed that night. His voice had been shaky because the cold. Half an hour earlier Sam had covered himself with a blanket because of the cold motel-room. He had sat next to Dean, because there had been warmer than anywhere else.

Next to Dean... That was the place Sam had died.

Next to Dean.

So yeah, Dean hated cold. It made him remember Sam. _His Sammy._

**End. So, like I said, this is an old fanfic but I really liked this. I bet there are still a few mistakes, but try to hang on there. Reviews are love! :***


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